Lifetime of Christmases
by lindsayandhalstead
Summary: Erin and Jay celebrate their first Christmas after moving in together.


**A/N: This is my Christmas present to all of you–my beautiful wonderful readers who never cease to amaze me with your kind words. You make me feel like I'm doing something right–like I'm good at something, and that means more than you can imagine.**

 **I hope you enjoy this Christmas fluffy piece, and I hope you all have a beautiful Christmas.**

* * *

"I'm home," she calls out, setting her keys next to his on the cabinet in the hallway. The sole action never ceases to make her heart thump up and down with excitement, because they are living together. Have been for almost half a year. "Sorry I'm late, traffic was a real bitch."

He hums something she can't hear, so she gets rid of her jacket and boots and heads to the living room. She stops midstep, gasping with surprise. "I think I got the wrong place."

He laughs, coming to greet her with a kiss on the cheek, which she quickly turns into a real kiss, because the last time she kissed him was that morning, and that's too long ago. Only when she's had her share, she pulls away, looking around the living room.

"I thought we weren't doing this?"

"No, you said we weren't doing this, but it's our first Christmas living together."

"Yes, it is," she agrees, finally getting accustomed to the Christmas decorations. "You cooked too?"

"Yes, I did. Took you forever to get home, so I had some time."

"I was picking up your present," she tells him, and enjoys his reaction. He looks almost child-like with the expectant eyes and curious smile. "You're getting it under the tree, which we apparently have now."

"You're not mad, are you?"

She looks up at him. It's almost as if he were worried, because he decorated her apartment, with just one problem. It's not her apartment anymore, it's theirs. And if he wants to hang lights and garlands, and put on a tree, who is she to stop him? "I'm not mad," she promises. "And it looks very nice."

His face lights up. "I left the last decoration for you to put on." He passes her the small Christmas tree on a hook, for her to hang it on the tree, and nearly misses the fact that her eyes fill with tears. She chooses a spot for it, and then he turns on the lights, and the entire apartment comes alive with the amber-coloured lights.

The sad fact is, that she has forgotten what it's like. For years now, she couldn't really get into the Christmas spirit, because she usually spent it alone. Sometimes she'd go to Hank's for dinner, but for years now, since Camille's passing, he wouldn't put on any decorations, and she didn't either. She realizes now, that for the first time in forever, she has a reason to celebrate again.

"Food needs a little more time, so if you want to shower before we eat?"

"Yes, just what I need," she murmurs. "Jay, this is great, really."

"I wanted to surprise you, but I wasn't sure if you'd be angry. I know you're not big on holidays."

"You were right. It's our first Christmas living together. It should be special." She leans up to kiss him again—kiss him slowly, lazily, and with all the love she feels for him, before heading to the bathroom to wash of the sweat and the grime from work and all the stores.

She pulls on black leggings and a festive sweater, since he went to all this trouble. The sound of Christmas classics sounds from the kitchen, and she can hear him humming along as he's finishing up. She takes the time to wrap up his gift in the bedroom, before padding to the kitchen, to enjoy a view of her handsome househusband.

"Can I help?" She asks, hopping on the furthest part of the counter, dangling her feet in the air.

"Please, just don't touch anything," he begs, knowing perfectly well that odds are she'll burn something, or knock something on the floor. She chuckles at that, shrugging in defeat. Soon enough he gives her something to try, which always happens, and is her favourite part of cooking (besides eating obviously).

"You made so much of everything," she comments with surprise.

"A habit. Somebody always stopped by on Christmas Eve, and mom always said to have something to offer."

"Nobody is coming here." As if the Universe wanted to defy her, the doorbell rings in that very second, and she rolls her eyes, jumping off to go open. The next two hours are full of people dropping off presents and inviting themselves to Jay's delicious cooking. People who have nowhere to go, she realizes when she looks around the room that's now full of people chatting and laughing. Kim, whose sister is away, and her family is on vacation somewhere. Will, who, much as Jay, only dropped by his house briefly to wish his dad a happy Christmas, and then wanted to see his brother, but also brought Natalie and Owen. Kevin, who brought his siblings, because it's Christmas, but he still wanted to stop by. His brother and sister are now taking care of Owen, by their own volition, and her heart melts a little watching them. Antonio, who's kids are spending Christmas with their mom, and his place is much too quiet. The last two are Hank and Al, and they only claim to want to wish them a happy Christmas in person, but they drag them inside for a drink anyway.

Nobody gets turned away. Erin realizes with glassy eyes that this is how she wants it to be always. Kim and Will are slightly drunk and singing, with Natalie eyeing Will with hearts in her eyes. She wonders if that's how she looks at Jay still.

"Hi," he greets, wrapping her in a hug from behind. His lips nuzzle into her neck, pressing a small kiss there, tickling her in the process. "I know you wanted a peaceful Christmas, and it kind of got hijacked."

"This is perfect. It's family."

"Yes, it is," he agrees. Pulling her by her arm, he spins her in the rhythm of an old Christmas song. They both know they wouldn't have it any other way. "So, are you going to tell me what my present is?"

"Not yet," she murmurs, giving him a preview kiss.

"I'll just tell everyone to go home." She laughs at that, throwing her head back, shaking it softly.

It takes another half an hour till everyone clears, and when they accompany the last people to the door, they close it behind them and lean back, sighing with relief.

"I love them all, but it's nice having you all to myself." He says it with a big goofy smile—the one she loves so much. In total agreement, she nods, nuzzling into his neck. "Can I get my present now?" He asks with impatience of a little boy, who was promised something he really wanted.

"You can unwrap the first part," she tells him. "It's me."

"I like where this is going." He pulls her closer, sealing their lips with a kiss that makes her toes curl. Then he lifts the hem of her sweater, and she lifts her arms to help him. Next is the tank top she's wearing underneath, and then he whistles.

"Is this a set?" He asks, hoping she'll nod. Her bra is in a festive combination of red and white lace. The push up of the bra gives her a nice cleavage, and he finds he's swallowing hard at the sight of the swell of her breasts.

"I'm sure you'll find out soon," she whispers—her voice laced with need and lust and love. True enough, he pulls down the soft fabric of the leggings, finding a matching pair of panties underneath.

"Is this what you were picking up today?"

"No, that's your other present. I can go get it if you want," she offers, but he tugs at her hand.

"Later. I'm not done unwrapping you yet."

Her eyes sparkle with mischief and desire, as she shakes her head, walking him to the bedroom. They don't stop until his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sits down obediently, watching her fingers unbuckle his belt buckle with skill. She hums to herself as she does it, removing his pants next, and pulling his boxers along with them.

Then she licks her lips, and he groans as she kneels in front of him, because he knows what's coming. She takes all of him in her mouth, her soft warm lips offering nothing but heaven. His fingers bury in her hair, as one hand fists the comforter beneath him, trying to dam his pleasure.

She knows exactly the rhythm in which to bob her head, and just how much pressure to apply with her lips to send him to heaven and back. And she looks beautiful doing it, he thinks, her hair surrounding her face, as she looks up at him, and he suddenly can't hold it back anymore. It hits him with a power that knocks him back on the mattress. It numbs his mind for a split second, and it's a feeling between being both helpless, and yet in complete control. Everything just sort of makes complete sense, until he starts seeing colours normally again, returning to this world with a sigh.

He exhales, watching Erin stand up, still wearing the underwear set that he is totally going to take off at some point tonight, because he's not insane, but he's going to need a couple of minutes, and she knows it, because she pulls on his shirt that she takes from the wardrobe, and throws his boxers at him with a chuckle.

"I don't even need the other gift," he tells her, still a bit dazed. "That was more than I could ever ask for."

"Well you're still getting it," she tells him, tugging at his arm until he follows her to the living room. It takes them forever, because he keeps kissing her—not that she minds so much.

He notices a big package under the tree now, and wonders when and how she got it there without him noticing. The shape looks sort of familiar, so he looks at her with wonder. "No. No you didn't."

Her mouth spreads into a big smile, because yes she did, and his look right now is totally worth all the hassle. His happiness is a bigger gift than she would ever hope for, and to know that she's behind it makes it even sweeter.

He unwraps the paper, tearing through it, until he realizes she indeed got him the tv he's been talking about for weeks now. He's not even ashamed to admit that his eyes get a little teary, because this was something he really wanted and she kept saying no, so he had pretty much accepted it by now.

"Thank you." He pulls her into his lap on the floor, covering her with kisses of gratitude. "I'm the luckiest guy."

And he knows it, he thinks, thinking about his gift. He passes her the small red box.

She doesn't bother moving from his lap, untying the sash with way more patience than he had, carefully uncovering the box that has a smaller red velvet box inside. She inhales sharply. It can't be. If these are earing she's going to kill him, but no need, because he's kneeling on one knee in front of the tree in his boxers, and if this situation was any less important she'd laugh, but barely manages to swallow due to a lump in her throat.

"I don't want to wait anymore," he starts. "I know we've only been living together half a year, but I've known you for much longer, and I've loved you for years now. And I've known that it was you and nobody else since you asked me if I wanted to hold your hand in public. I love you. I want to spend all my Christmases with you."

He opens the box, since she's apparently too stunned to do it herself. It's not earrings, she thinks. It's a promise on his part that he'll love her forever. It's a promise of an entire lifetime of Christmases just like this one, and she wants it. She wants it so much it hurts.

"Yes. I want to spend all my Christmases with you too."

Finally, he slides the ring on her finger, and she's surprised by how right it feels there. This moment hasn't occupied a lot of her thoughts, but when she did think about it, she used to be a little terrified by the idea. But now that it happened, all she feels is happiness—an insane amount of happiness that makes her feel like she's about to burst.

And no, she never saw herself married in the future, but that's because she never thought she'd meet the right man. But the longer they've been together, the more she was sure that this was it—she didn't want anybody else, as long as she had him.

Jay kisses her then, all the nerves and the questions disappearing when his lips brush over hers. It's gentle and soft and it's the embodiment of the promise they just made. He picks her up like she weighs nothing, carrying her to the bed in a few steady steps. As he lays her down, he pulls off the boxers he put on before, and she unhooks her bra at the same time.

He wants her—wants to bury himself inside of her until she's in a state of bliss she just put him in by accepting his proposal. But he takes his time, covering her skin with kisses until it's burning and she's squirming beneath him, aching for the one thing that can take her there—him. His fingers linger at the lace fabric, before rubbing her through it, teasing her with lazy strokes. He only stops when she's whimpering, and then slides the fabric down her legs and on the floor, finally giving her what she needs.

He buries himself deep inside her in one fast thrust—then stills for a second, before starting to move. His fingers find hers, lacing through them. The bare heels of her feet dig into his lower back, and he feels one hand on his ass, urging him to go deeper—to go faster.

She stills now, bringing her left hand up to his cheek. Their eyes lock together in silence, their movements continuing until his rapid movements push her over the edge and she explodes underneath him with a strangled moan, reminding him of fireworks on New Years Eve.

He follows after a few more thrusts, collapsing on top of her. Once he recovers and rolls over, she curls up against him—instantly missing the heat his body provided. Placing her hand on his chest, she finally has time to admire the ring he gave her.

"It's beautiful."

"It was my mother's," he tells her. "She always said that the first one to find the right girl should have it."

It makes her smile—the thought of wearing a ring belonging to the woman who raised the man she loves. "Will wasn't upset you asked for it first?"

"He was surprised I didn't ask for it sooner," Jay admits. "But I didn't want to scare you off."

"Your timing is perfect, as always. Merry Christmas," she tells him, not sure if she's even said it today.

"Merry Christmas. Since that doesn't technically count as a Christmas present, there is something else under the tree for you. You can open it in the morning though." He knows she's too warm and too comfortable to get up.

"Can't wait." She's already drifting to sleep, the excitement more than enough to empty her batteries. It was a long day—a good day, but a long one nonetheless, and she hooks her leg over Jay's, humming with content. "I love you."

He echoes her words, thinking about how this kind of _I love yous_ are his favourite. They've said it many times since that first time, but this kind tops them all—when she's already half way in dreamland, but she comes back to consciousness for long enough to tell him, just so he doesn't forget, and because she wants those to be the last words of every night and the first words of every morning.

And he can't wait to tell her just how much he loves her back every single night and every single morning—for the rest of his life.


End file.
